Past and Future
by StatsGrandma57
Summary: Originally published for the Mother's Day Challenge at HanLeiaFanFicWriters. No kids in this one, but a future and a hope.


Han watched in admiration as Leia wielded a hydrospanner with amazing grace and capability. There was something very hot, er, attractive about a princess who could also work with tools, and Han was enjoying this aspect of her immensely.

Even though Han was sure he would have enjoyed having Leia work with him, whatever the reason, this work was necessary. They were in deep space, awaiting an uncertain welcome on Bespin-assuming they ever got there-and the _Falcon_ had no lightspeed, adding a bit more uncertainty to an already nerve-wracking trip. Worse, for all the work they done, it had yielded nothing in the way of results. Sadly, the rest of the ship demanded constant attention as well; it had suffered from both attacks and being clobbered in the asteroid field. Through it all, Leia had worked just as hard—and just as skillfully—as he and Chewie had. Han had to admit he was both impressed and grateful.

And he'd discovered more about Leia than her mechanical skills-much, much more. Since their first kiss in the circuitry bay, which had been unceremoniously cut short by Threepio, they had taken their physical attraction all the way. Han felt warm just thinking about it.

Normally, the couple bantered as they labored, taunting each other as they exchanged instructions, teasing when it took multiple hands to accomplish a tricky task. They'd laugh and joke, despite knowing they were in grave danger. And when the work was done, there was unadulterated bliss in each other's arms.

Today, however, Leia had been uncharacteristically quiet. Han had attempted to tease her, very gently but she'd only shot him a stare that would have withered a forest of japor ivory wood. Han's heart sank, but she remained silent—though not so much sullen as pensive, he'd observed. He opted to let her continue to work in silence, but when they broke for lunch, she looked so sad, he had to ask.

"Princess," he said softly. "What's going on?" he asked as he prepared a less than exciting lunch of flatbread and nut butter, with some Asteria water for her that he'd purloined on a supply mission for the Alliance. He'd paid for it out of his own credits, not theirs, he thought proudly. He knew how much Leia enjoyed it; it was a favorite beverage on her now-destroyed homeworld.

"Nothing!" she snapped. Then, realizing that Han really had done nothing to warrant it, she repeated more quietly, "nothing."

Han let it go for a few minutes. He knew if he coaxed her, she'd just become furious with him. They ate in silence.

"I checked the chrono," Leia spoke into the quiet.

"We always check the chrono, sweetheart," he answerd her.

Leia looked up at him, her brown eyes riddled with grief. "It's Mother's Day, Han."

Han reached across the dejarik table and gently cradled Leia's tiny hand in his large one. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really am. You were close to your mom?"

Leia took a deep breath. "I'm adopted, as you may have heard around the base."

Han lifted a brow as he smiled. "I pay about as much attention to base gossip as I do to anyone who gives me orders." Leia's lips lifted in a smile over that one. "When were you adopted?" he continued.

"As a newborn," Leia answered. "So, I really have two mothers."

"But you don't remember your birth mother," Han said. "So your adoptive mom is your real mom."

Leia hesitated. "I know this is going to sound weird," she said slowly, considering her words, "but occasionally, I have some feelings about her, my birth mother," she clarified. "I think she was beautiful, kind, and very sad. But as you said, the woman I consider to be my mother is the one who raised me. The one who made me who I am."

Han smiled softly. "Must've been a hell of a woman."

Leia tried not to let moisture show in her eyes, but there was such tenderness in Han's voice and eyes and touch, it was hard to keep them dry. She sniffled lightly, rubbing her eyes. Han silently handed her a tattered but clean serviette. He nibbled at his flatbread while Leia composed herself.

"Leia," he said gently. "You don't have to play strong with me when you don't feel like it."

Leia nodded. "I miss her so much," she whispered. Han slid over on the banquette, placing his strong arms around her, and she buried her face in his broad chest. He rested his head on top of hers, clasping her close to his heart.

She was so warm, so soft in his embrace. He could feel her tears dampen his shirt as she gave in to her tears, and he minded it not in the least. In fact, there was a stirring in him that had never, not once, happened to him before.

He wanted to be a father.

And he knew who he wanted his children's mother to be.

Of course, he told himself, this wouldn't exactly be the prime time to bring it up. They'd been bedding each other for ten days-ten of the best days of Han's life, to his mind. Nothing had ever brought him the sense of devotion and completion that making love with Leia did. He wanted to be a better man.

And there was the added complication of the uncertainty of their futures. Han and Leia had no idea what might await them at Bespin. By Han's own admission, Lando Calrissian wasn't the most trustworthy of souls, but their current options were limited. They wondered how long the war would continue-it felt as if it would never end, and they weren't winning. Nothing was certain in the universe, although there was something that both felt was solid between them, an anchor for their souls, satisfying a longing that went far beyond the physical.

Leia calmed, and Han kissed her tenderly on her forehead. "I'm sorry about your mom," he said simply.

"Let's get back to work, Flyboy," she told him, taking his hand and leading him back to the engine room.

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Han and Leia worked together, repairing the aft stabilizer. They hadn't said much after their lunchtime talk, but Leia'd been moved by Han's

simple, tender acknowledgment of her grief. She wondered about his parents, and why he never spoke of them. Perhaps he'd tell her someday, but she knew he wasn't big on discussing his past.

Right now Leia felt closer to Han Solo than she ever had to another being in her life. There was something about this gruff but intensely genuine man that sparked emotions in her that she'd never encountered before.

As she watched him, covered with engine grease, bickering with Chewie, her thoughts traveled in a direction that both alarmed and delighted her.

Leia had long ago decided that her life would be one spent in pursuit of justice, freedom, the good of all. A personal life was out of the question. But she had begun questioning that as of late. Possibly, she'd been deliberately depriving herself of a normal life-or perhaps she'd not known that such desires existed until meeting this man.

What if he was the love of her life?

What would it be like to be married to Han Solo? To have children with him? She'd never seen herself as a mother, but there was a glimmer now, an idea of wanting to create something out of an intensely personal love.

For the first time in her life, Leia began to imagine herself as a mother.

And she was quite certain who she'd like the father to be.


End file.
